


The Watering Hole

by Jamaican Princess (Rocquellan)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s), Possessive Behavior, Possessive Dean Winchester, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3894601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocquellan/pseuds/Jamaican%20Princess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too much people wants a piece of Sammy and Dean's sick of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Watering Hole

**Author's Note:**

> I really love possessive Dean! It's like a drug :)

The Watering Hole.

“Lookit,” Dean laughed, ribbing Sam at the name of the bar they were coming up on. “Gives you all kind’s a dirty images, don’t it, Sammy?”

“It’s Sam,” Sam grumbled from his side in the shotgun seat, trying to will a mild headache away.

“Ok Sammy, it’s Sam,” Dean mocked while he maneuvered the impala into a parking spot.

“Jerk,” Sam muttered while he got out of the car.

Dean chuckled.

……….

Well, at least the inside wasn’t fluorescent, Dean thought. He ordered up two glasses of whatever was on tap while Sam made a beeline for the pool table, which was occupied by three people.

“Sure,” the bartender, a man, answered before turning to get his drinks. He leaned on the counter and watched Sammy start chatting with the two guys and one girl already present, slotting himself in for a two on two friendly match. They weren’t hustling, just winding down from a hunt two states away. They wanted to get to Sioux Falls to see Bobby within the next twenty four hours.

“Here ya go.”

“Thanks,” Dean answered when he got the beverages. He sat a couple of tables away, intending to call Sam over but the game looked good, Sam seemed to be really enjoying himself and Dean had to admit he had a blast himself seeing his Sammy so carefree and happy after some of the shitstorm they’d weathered. Those Bender’s were creepy as fuck!

Sam gave the girl a high five after sinking the eight ball, before bending over the table again, lining up his pool stick and gearing to take another shot. After a mouthful of brew, he considered bending Sam over in that same position later. It looked good on him.

Sam looked over and caught his eyes then, smiling bashfully for a split second before burying his head behind his outstretched hand while his hair fell across his eyes, then wiping it off his face before sighting down the pool stick. It made Dean smile around the froth in his glass.

The game was good, Sam’s long body stretched out and relaxed, his smile care free and harmless, pouting cutely when the other party sank a ball. It took a while for Dean to realize he’d drank his beer and then drank Sam’s. Time for a refill. He made his way over to the barkeeper, circling his hand in the air and then pointing to his pint glass when the man glanced over. The barkeeper was presently dealing with someone else so Dean took a seat on the closest empty stool and waited.

A harsh bark of laughter drew his eyes from Sammy to two guys sitting a few paces to his right around a table for a split second, both nursing some hard liquor.

“But he wasn’t really my type, ya know? I was just desperate,” the one Dean dubbed as ‘Blondie’ said, a laugh following close behind. They both looked the fresh from college type, pristine in a way that screamed ‘trust fund baby’ that made Dean’s skin itch.

“Wow, bet he was just glad to get your hands on him,” ‘Curly Joe’ snickered.

Now those guys irritated Dean just on principle of being assholes.

“You bet!” They both burst out laughing, the sound of the liquor sliding down their gullets audible through their snickers.

Dean kept his eyes resolutely on Sammy, allowing the sight of his brother to hold and anchor him like he always did. There was just something about Sam, soul deep and heart wrenching and Dean couldn’t explain it most time. Wouldn’t want to either, but he’ll gladly show it.

“Same as before,” Dean shouted and the barkeeper took his glass and turned away with a nod.

“Know who’s my type though…?”

Dean was listening half heartedly, not really paying attention but not having another choice since the guys were kinda loud and obnoxious and really close.

“…Guy over by the pool table.”

Dean’s head snapped around at the words, looking intently at Blondie and Curly Joe. Were they talking about Sammy?

“Tall, broad and so fucking hot,” Blondie concluded while Curly Joe turned his head and scanned the pool table, a breathy sigh of agreeability leaving his mouth.

“Muscles like that…”

At least the guys had taste, Dean thought. Sammy was a fine specimen of wonder. He got his beer and leaned back where he was, watching Sam and listening to guys barely skim the surface of what a hot piece of ass his brother was. Chairs scraped the floor and Dean took a glimpse over to the table to see the guys had their chairs turned so they were in full view of Sammy, drinking him in hungrily.

“Bet he likes to take it.” It was Curly Joe this time and Dean made the mental correction in his head, _‘like to take it but love to give it’_. And Dean will never admit out loud that the same went for him too.

“Muscle bound guys like that are a lot of the times girly little princesses in the sack,” Blondie snorted. “I’ve met enough to know.”

Curly Joe laughed. Dean knows this guy would get thrown around like a rag doll in bed with Sammy. It's only the same military training that they both got that allowed Dean to deflect Sam’s attempt at manhandling most of the time.

“Think he’d like me using my tongue on him?” Curly Joe asked.

“Most guys love a hot, wet tongue up the ass, trust me,” Blondie answered confidently. 

Dean sort of agreed. Depending on Sam’s mood it would be welcomed, but not always.

“Bet he’ll be all sorts of wet and hot, milking my cock of every drop.”

“Yeah, sweetest mouth I’ve seen in a while too.”

While Dean loved him some Sammy gossip, it was falling into rhetoric territory now. Sam might be ignorant to his own appeal a lot of the times, but these guy’s words and expressions were things Dean had seen too many times to count directed at Sam to be affected by it. By men and women.

And none of them will ever get the chance to taste what Dean’s coveted for himself wholly. Sammy was his, body and soul. So he didn’t even feel threatened when people waxed poetic about Sam’s ass, broad shoulders, muscled arms or kissable lips. He was about to shove off so he could take in the game when the guy’s words changed tunes. Something in their tone kept Dean rooted to the spot.

“Think he’ll go for me on the first try?” Blondie asked.

“Nobody’s been able to resist your magic potion,” Curly Joe answered.  
“Yeah, I’ll buy him a drink. Did he come in alone?” Blondie asked and all sorts of alarm bell was going off in Dean’s head.

“Get me a pint of beer.”

Dean watched out of the corner of his eyes as Curly Joe came mere inches from him and ordered the beer. He wanted to grab the guy and grind his face into the countertop, but he wanted to be sure of what they were up to. He didn’t have to guess what Blondie was doing when he slipped the glass of beer a few inches below the table while he tried to look inconspicuous dropping the drugs inside it, then sloshing it around to make sure the pill dissolved.

“I’m gonna offer gorgeous over there a drink, then offer him a ride home.” Blondie laughed, pushing away from the table while Curly Joe saluted him with his tumbler and Dean felt rage like nothing else course through him. These guys wanted to drug his brother and possibly do heinous things to him.

Dean’s protective instincts slammed into him like a frieght train, a Pavlovian response to anything threatening his Sammy. He left his beer on the bar and spun on his heels, stalking towards the asshole making his way to the pool table, a leer of a smile on his lips like he was certain he was gonna get laid, whether the other party wanted to or not. It made Dean’s stride quicker and his body thrum with each closing step. Before the fucker knew what was happening, Dean was on him, grabbing the pint of beer with one hand, the guy’s jaw in a bruising grip with the other and then he dumped the drugged beer down the guy’s throat and all over his face. Blondie choked and gasped in surprise and fright. Dean followed the action with a right hook, sending the guy sprawling in a heap on the floor, knocking over tables with drinks and chairs as he went down, eyes rolling back in his head.

“Son of a bitch,” Curly Joe cried when Dean snapped enraged green eyes up at him, clumsily backing away while Dean advanced, headbutting him and knocking him out cold.

“Dean!” Sammy bellowed and Dean turned to see his brother frantically making his way towards him while the other patrons gave him a wide berth, sitting and standing in stunned and stoic silence.

“Fuck, Sammy…” Dean exhaled and he saw the second Sammy knew, his confusion transforming into a soft look and brittle smile. They didn’t always need words.

“Come on, we gotta go or the bouncer’s gonna throw us out.”

Sam grabbed his hand and they managed to dodge the bouncer and slip out the door, Sammy sliding across the hood of the car in their escape attempt and by the time he had the door closed, Dean was already peeling Baby out of the parking lot.

“What the hell happened back there?” Sam asked bewildered.

“Fucker thinks they can lay a hand on you, Sammy,” Dean answered brackish. “Wanted to give you date rape drugs or some shit.” Dean’s hands shook on Baby’s steering wheel at the thought.

Sam sighed, a fond smile on his face that Dean didn’t have to see to know it was there. “You’re the one that taught me not to take anything from strangers, big brother.”

“Damn straight,” Dean boasted while he navigated a corner. Sam manoeuvred until his face was inches from from Dean’s, his warm breath on his skin and his fingers playing with the soft down of hair at the back of Dean’s neck. Dean shivered at the touch.

“Besides…” Sam continued after mouthing at Dean’s neck and lower jaw, the sensation travelling straight to Dean’s dick. “…you’re the only one allowed to take advantage of me, Dean.”

Sam punctuated the words with a hard suck to the skin below Dean’s ear.

“Sammy…” Dean growled warningly. “I’m driving.”

Sam pulled back, smiling. “Fine. You owe me a blowjob, though. It was pretty hot, even if it was stupid, watching you defend my virtue like a mindless caveman with a club.”

“Bitch,” Dean snorted.

“Jerk.” Sam smiled.


End file.
